


Hazy Air

by Areiton



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: The air was hazy and he knew that this was Scotty's fault--but he was having trouble thinking past Spock's tongue in his mouth.





	Hazy Air

McCoy was very firmly aware of three things.

One: something was _seriously_ wrong with the air, and he was going to _kill_ Scotty because he knew—he fucking _knew_ that this was his fault.

Two: he was also going to strangle the blue-eyed idiot responsible for him being in the science labs to begin with.

And b: holy _fuck_ Spock could kiss.

“Doctor,” Spock said, biting his lip, “please stop thinking so loudly.”

McCoy is pretty sure he makes some kind of indignant response to that, but Spock’s tongue is in his mouth and he’s actually too busy sucking on it to think about what he said or _why_ he’s indignant.

The air is hazy. He can see that when his head falls back and Spock sucks hard on his throat, and McCoy’s hips jerk up, seeking some kind of friction as he scrabbles at the damn blue tunic.

How the hell does Jim manage to tear his every two minutes, and Len can’t get manage to get a handful of Spock’s?

Spock snarls a little, and bites down on his shoulder, hard enough that Len yelps.

“Do not think of the captain,” Spock hisses, and oh, oh gods, he’s licking a path up Len’s neck, nipping at his jaw and catching the lobe of his ear between his teeth, sucking soft.

It makes Len’s knees go a little weak, that kind of sharp edged gentleness, a dichotomy that fits Spock perfectly.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of this. What kissing Spock would be like. He might never say it out loud, and he sure as hell wouldn’t mention it to Jim but—

“Jesus, Spock, you keep biting me I’m gonna think you’re jealous.” McCoy spits, grinding hard into Spock when his teeth sink down again.

Spock looks at him, and his gaze is strange—glittering and hot in the hazy air. “I believe I told you to _stop_ thinking.”

He palms Leonard through his trousers and oh hell. He moans as his head hits the wall, pushing into the grip that’s not right, not enough, needs _more._

Distantly, he knows he’s babbling, that he’s fucking _begging_ for Spock to take him, but he can’t bring himself to care, because Spock’s got his hands— _fuck,_ Spock’s _hands—_ in his pants and oh that’s good that’s so goddamn _good._

Spock makes a noise in his throat, something low and pleased that’s almost a purr and McCoy sucks in a breath to tell him how _cute_ that is, but Spock twists his hand, just a little and he abruptly loses all ability to think past, “Kiss me, Spock, kiss me, more, gimme more, fuck—“

Spock kisses him hard, and McCoy can’t breathe past the taste of his tongue, the hot wet heat of him, and the tight grip on his cock.

Scotty’s voice, apologetic and bashful, comes across the ships channel as Len is coming, and he can hear it, distantly, over the sound of his moans and Spock’s voice, low and raspy Vulcan in his ear.

_Ahh. Sorry about that. Minor mishap in Engineering—a bit of pollen in the airways. You should be feeling back to yourself immediately. Please direct any lingering effects to Medical._

Yeah. He was gonna kill Scotty. But first.

He hits his knees and Spock makes a choked noise that is all broken and yeah, ok. He did that. He broke Spock’s fucking control.

He grins up at the Vulcan, all hungry and bright. “Want me to stop?”

“Leonard,” Spock almost sobs.

Good enough.

He turns back to the task at hand and almost groans when he gets his first taste, and he wants to go slow, wants to savor this because they won’t have the excuse later, Spock won’t—

He shuts off that line of thought and takes him in his mouth, swallows around him, revels in the silky hard weight of his cock on his tongue and Spock—

Spock loses it. His hands are in McCoy’s hair, twisting as he moves, shallow little thrusts that he doesn’t seem to mean—like he can’t _help_ but fuck Len’s mouth and isn’t _that_ interesting.

He swallows around Spock and bobs on him, wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes what he can’t take and Spock makes this noise above him, something that’s too close to a whine to be called anything else.

“Holy _shit!_ Spock?” Jim sounds two parts scandalized, and two parts awed. “ _Bones?”_

Spock snarls, and there’s a quick scramble of feet, and he can hear Jim yelling at people, and the door locks engage but Spock’s touching him, fingers brushing his face, and Jesus _fuck_ , he’s coming.

Len feels his dick twitch as Spock’s taste hits his tongue, as he swallows rapidly and he wishes like hell they could do this again.

Shoves that thought aside because no. That’s not what they are. Not what _this_ is.

In the aftermath, they’re quiet, straightening clothes and cleaning up without looking at each other or talking. He leaves first, because he can’t stay. Not when Spock is staring at his lab work like he doesn’t understand what he just did, like he wants to forget it.

He gets to the door, and Spock clears his throat. Against his will, he pauses and Spock says, stiffly. “Would you care to join me for dinner after your shift?”

McCoy gives him a surprised look and sees the gleam of uncertainty that Spock would never admit to. He nods and leaves the lab quickly—

And runs smack into a grinning James T Kirk.

_Shit._

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh. So there was a plot bunny up for adoption on Twitter and I didn't actually MEAN to adopt it, but I sorta did. (IT WAS SOFT AND FLUFFY AND HAPPY!)


End file.
